


Twitch

by sincerelyjessy



Series: Twitch Verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: House Party, M/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-01 23:44:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10203548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelyjessy/pseuds/sincerelyjessy
Summary: "It was fragile, this temporary moment they’d crafted together. An alternate universe where Kurt Hummel and Sebastian Smythe weren’t nipping at each other’s heels." In which Kurt tries pot and Sebastian tries his hand at not being a complete ass.





	

Kurt’s mouth felt kind of funny. Somewhere around the third shot of hard liquor, he’d lost the ability to feel his top lip.

He honestly never expected to spend his Friday evening at some mansion in Westerville, partying with the sons and daughters of the elite.

It was twice as shocking that Puck had been the one who invited him.

Ever since Finn moved in, Puck had more or less become a permanent fixture in Kurt’s house. He’d play their video games and eat all their food. And he left his smelly shoes everywhere. The only plus was that he was kind of Kurt’s friend now. Which was weird. But not unwelcome.

Kurt hadn’t thought he would be the first choice to go partying with, but Puck had insisted he thought of him as soon as he got the invite.

“This guy’s house is massive, dude.” Puck promise. “It’s uh, this rebranded Victorian deal.”

“Refurbished?” Kurt offered.

“What?”

“I think the word you’re looking for is refurbished.”

Puck scowled a little, continuing. “Anyway, I know you’re into that shit. And you have no life.”

“You are so good at this.”

Puck was undeterred. “It’ll be fun. It’s real classy. They’ll probably have those fruity drinks you like.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes. “…what’s in it for you?”

Puck crossed his arms, immediately going on defense. “You’re my boy! I just want to have a good old fashioned night of getting shitfaced with my bro.“ He paused, and for a second Kurt saw something unrecognizable…insecurity, maybe?

“That’s what we are right…bros?”

And Kurt felt bad for doubting Puck’s intentions for all of two seconds before it all clicked for Kurt. “Where did you say this party was?”

“Forty minutes out. Westerville.” Puck said, gaze not quite meeting Kurt’s eyes.

Puck, in all of his predictable glory, just needed Kurt’s car.

 

 

One eventful car ride and a couple of shots later—the fruity drinks Kurt was promised were nowhere to be found, although the décor of the house was more than enough to make up for it—and he was officially in party mode.

Except he wasn’t. Because he wasn’t used to…this kind of party. Far from the well-lit basement in Rachel Berry’s house, the room was all packed bodies and poorly lit corners. Kurt made the mistake of staring too long at a group clearly doing what must’ve been lines of coke off the coffee table. And Puck had gone chasing some girl with a pixie cut, leaving Kurt in a sea of strangers.

Kurt thought about leaving, but he had to at least wait for the alcohol to wear off. Plus, he couldn’t in good conscience leave Puck to his own devices, despite how tempting it was.

So, he figured he had two options. He could continue to search for Puck and drag him away—which would take an incredible amount of concentration that he wasn’t sure he possessed at that moment. Or, he could go outside to cool off and wait it out.

He opted for the latter, pushing himself through the throng of bodies until he found the backdoor. The lock seemed to be jammed, so it took a bit of jiggling for him to get it open, the door flying forward and hitting someone who had been leaning against it.

The stranger yelped, and Kurt flinched when he realized what he had done. He was like a walking disaster, for Christ’s sake, leaving a trail of embarrassing stories and painfully awkward encounters in his path.

He stepped outside, ready to apologize to the stranger before fleeing to his car when he stopped in his tracks. Because the stranger in front of him wasn’t a stranger at all, but the last person he was expecting to see on this god-forsaken night.

“Sebastian?”

Sebastian Smythe stood proudly in front of him, dressed like a frat boy all while lacking the dopey charm that should’ve come with it.

Kurt knew him all too well, unfortunately. Ever since that faithful night he’d went to spy on Dalton and met Blaine— _the dreamboat of the century,_ Kurt’s mind supplied helpfully—he’d also met the Warbler’s friend and teammate.

After Blaine had shown him around, treating him with nothing but kindness and support, Kurt began to think of Dalton as his dream school. Cute boys, stellar academics, and a no-bullying policy. It didn’t take long for him to start picturing building a life there.

And then they ran into Sebastian shortly afterward, and all his dreams died along with his self-esteem.

The warbler reprimanded Blaine for fraternizing with the enemy, talking about Kurt as if he wasn’t even in the room. He only glanced at Kurt towards the end of his rant, frowning slightly at what he saw.

“Look at him, Blaine. He practically reeks of public school abuse.”

“Sebastian!” Blaine said, glancing at Kurt to see his face. But Kurt was used to idiots having something to say, and went on autopilot.

“Cheaper than getting fondled at Catholic school.” Kurt quipped back without even thinking, realizing he had made a mistake when he saw the horror in Blaine’s eyes.

Sebastian stared at him, nothing changing in his expression.

Except his mouth. The corner of his mouth twitched just slightly, a fact that Kurt could never forget. “Jesuit.”

“What?”

“I went to Jesuit school, asshole.”

And that was Kurt’s formal introduction to Sebastian Smythe. Who was currently standing in front of him right now. And he looked just as irritated now as he did back then.

His eyes did lack that sharpness, though. And that’s when Kurt knew he was drunk. Not to mention the fact that he smelled…like…oh my god, was that pot?

“Of fucking course.” Smythe drawled, and a quick glance at the blunt in his hand confirmed that yup, it sure was. “If it isn’t Anderson’s charity case.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. This was kind of their routine. Ever since Blaine and Kurt fostered a long distance friendship of sorts, Sebastian never wasted energy on hiding his disapproval. He had wondered—often out loud, rudely, in front of Kurt—what great sin Blaine had committed that he was atoning for.

Any semblance of apology died on Kurt’s lips as he glared at the bastard standing in front of him. “You’re lucky it was only the door that hit you.”

And there it was. That unmistakable twitching of the corner of his mouth. Kurt never knew how to place it, never fully understood what it meant.

It did get under his skin though.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, princess.” Sebastian warned. That was one of the numerous pet names Sebastian had come up with just to get on Kurt’s nerves. If Blaine were around, he’d admonish him for it, but not before laughing. Because it was a joke. It was funny. Kurt, for reasons unbeknownst to him, was funny.

Kurt felt his face burning hotly—whether from anger or the insane amounts of alcohol he ingested he couldn’t be sure— but didn’t cower, staring right back at him. He understood his game, knew the tricks by now. Don’t show weakness, stand tall. Smythe could smell fear better than most predators.

Kurt had been an expert at this. Sebastian was definitely not the first bully he had encountered, perhaps just the most sophisticated. He was more deliberate in the way he hurt people. In a strange sort of way, Kurt respected that about him. This, he stood a chance against.

Sebastian’s perpetual smirk softened to…something else. Something yet to be defined. Kurt blinked.

And Sebastian stepped aside, allowing Kurt to stop standing awkwardly in the doorway. He sat on the steps, leaving room for Kurt to sit next to him.

Kurt was dumbfounded. He quickly closed the door behind him, fumbling with the lock again. And then he sat down. Next to Sebastian. With no Blaine to act as a buffer.

It was a small gesture, but to Kurt, it was like a dam had finally broken.

He could smell his cologne—under all the cannabis, that is— soft and sophisticated. Nothing like the cheap and harsh smell of Axe Kurt was used to.

Sebastian had always been so effortlessly mature. And cultured. He’d grown up in Paris, had seen the world, and just _knew_ things about life that were so much larger and grander than anything in Ohio.

Kurt tried for years of his life to cultivate a persona that came to Sebastian so naturally; made all his hard work look mediocre. Kurt was a fraud, and Smythe seemed to smell it on him just as easily as Kurt could smell that cologne.

Them being adversaries was a given.

“Why are you here, anyway?” Sebastian asked, cutting off Kurt’s spiraling train of thought. “Didn’t think this was your crowd.”

“Like it’s yours.” Kurt pointed out. “Thought bathroom stall hookups were more your ally.”

Sebastian actually laughed at that, and the sound jarred Kurt. “Well, maybe I wanted a change of scenery.”

“Which is why you’re out here getting high by yourself.”

“Touché.”

Kurt was more surprised by the sight then he’d let on. Sebastian, whenever in his element, was always a very social person. Hell, Kurt would be less shocked to see him inside doing lines of coke with the group he’d seen earlier. But this, meditating in the dark when there was so much to _discover_ inside, well…maybe even Sebastian Smythe grew a little shy from time to time.

Kurt remembered the time Sebastian dragged Blaine to Scandals, completely not amused when Blaine in turn decided to invite Kurt along. He remembered Blaine pleading with Sebastian, saying, “Come on. It’ll be fun for him.”

The look Sebastian had given Kurt then was comical, eyes narrowed and lips pouting like some petulant child. Which is what he was. A boy who never quite gets his way.

“Blaine, I’m sure doughboy can speak for himself. Can’t you, doughboy?” Sebastian had asked him.

“Sebastian!” Blaine hissed, eyes widening apologetically. Always the empathy.

Kurt was no stranger to the fact that Blaine spent a lot of time feeling sorry for him. In fact, it was the very foundation of the two of them.

Kurt tried his best not to see himself as a victim, but sometimes, when Blaine looked at him, he swore that was all he saw. He didn’t know how he felt about that.

But Kurt knew he was not some… charity case, as Sebastian had just wonderfully put it.

“I always had my suspicions you were a pothead.”

Sebastian took a long pull just then, as if trying to prove a point to Kurt, before blowing the smoke directly in his face. Kurt tried his best not to flinch, but he couldn’t help the fact that his eyes watered.

“That’s Monsieur Pothead to you.” Sebastian said after a moment, and Kurt actually laughed. Yeah, Sebastian was definitely high—cross-faded? —and it was a sight to behold. The touch of French was amusing, the fact that they were both fluent being one of the few things they had in common.

The one time Kurt spoke French around him was when he was helping Blaine study for his proficiency test. Sebastian’s jaw had actually dropped, and Kurt remembered feeling so smug. For once, he was able to beat Smythe at his own game.

“Your accent is spot on.” Sebastian had remarked, too awestruck to remember he was supposed to be rude. “Seriously. Like a native.”

“…thank you?” Kurt remembered saying, going from smug to confused.

Blaine beamed at the two of them, happy that his friends were getting along, if even for a moment.

“Where’d you learn it, the Parisian prostitution ring social services rescued you from?”

And there it went. So brief Kurt often wonders if it ever happened at all.

The Sebastian in front of him now reminded him of that moment they’d shared, where there similarities spoke louder than their differences.

“Why?” Kurt asked after a while, watching Sebastian puff his little heart out and blow it into the night air. It stunk.

“Because it feels good.” He answered simply. Always the hedonist. Always after something.

Kurt didn’t know if he could trust someone like that.

“Does it?”

Sebastian’s hand reached out then, pointing the unlit end of the blunt in Kurt’s direction, brow raised.

“D.A.R.E. warned me about this.” Kurt said, but didn’t refuse it. He raised his hand to take it from Sebastian, but instead found Sebastian’s hand moving forward, holding it in front of Kurt’s mouth.

He closed his mouth around it, Sebastian’s finger grazing his lip. He waited for something to happen.

“Inhale, genius.” Sebastian supplied helpfully, and so Kurt did, his lungs getting fuller and fuller with the pungent smoke.

“There you go. Hold your breath.” Sebastian coaxed, almost…gently? If that were possible. And Kurt did, holding it in for as long as he could until he couldn’t anymore, getting lightheaded at the sensation. He didn’t remember that he even _could_ exhale until Sebastian reminded him to do so.

And a pool of smoke left his mouth, a tingly feeling overtaking his own body. He saw Sebastian staring, watching the smoke spread about between them, until it dissipated into the night air.

Kurt felt dizzy and he knew he couldn’t attribute it to the pot.

“You’re a natural.” Sebastian said, and there it was again. A compliment. “I almost hacked a lung up my first time. I still do, sometimes.”

“I’m better than you at a lot of things.” Kurt said, because he had just smoked for the first time and he was feeling bold and he was still a little drunk.

But instead of countering Sebastian just shook his head and smiled. It was weird. Kurt wasn’t sure if he liked this new Sebastian, who held back more than he said.

They shared the blunt a few more times, Sebastian insisting on holding it for him every time it was his turn. Kurt honestly couldn’t have predicted this was how his night would go a few hours ago.

 

 

Kurt wasn’t sure what being high felt like, exactly, but he did feel like he was floating. And he wasn’t shivering from the cold anymore.

But Sebastian staring at him was making him a bit uneasy. And he said just that.

“I’m just trying to…trying to…” Sebastian trailed off, his normally large selection of words evading him; his mind probably even murkier than Kurt’s.

“Any day now.” Kurt quipped.

“….understand.” He settled on, frowning slightly. Clearly unsatisfied with his word choice.

“What?”

“You.”

Kurt looked up, meeting his gaze head on.

“I thought I had you figured out.” Sebastian went on, realizing he owed him some sort of explanation. “I’m good at that. Figuring people out.”

“That isn’t narcissistic at all.”

“It’s not.” Sebastian snapped, then grew quiet again. “Not when it’s the truth.”

Kurt was almost inclined to believe him. It took Sebastian all of two seconds to size someone up and pinpoint their insecurities. It was a little game he liked to play, apparently a mean streak from his childhood that never quite died out. Kurt had seen it in action, had been on the receiving end of it more often than not.

“People aren’t that simple, Smythe.”

Sebastian laughed then, almost privately. It wasn’t meant for Kurt. “Most of them are, _Hummel_.” He teased.

And yet Kurt had him stumped. Second guessing himself. He didn’t know what to do around this version of Sebastian, this boy that was so unsure. He hadn’t learned the rules for this, yet.

“You could just ask.” Kurt proposed. “If there’s anything specific you wanted to know.”

Sebastian’s expression grew sullen then, and Kurt had no idea why. God, he’d never get him. The boy in front of him was full of contradictions that served to do nothing but make Kurt’s head spin.

Kurt guessed he was trying to understand, too.

“Are you, like a virgin?” Sebastian asked in his best “straight boy” voice, and well, he looked the part. Kurt stared at him for all of three seconds before laughing, Sebastian joining in shortly afterward.

They grew quiet again, the air between them growing heavier.

“What is it you see in him?”

The question made Kurt pause. The _him_ in question was glaringly obvious. Of course Sebastian noticed his crush on Blaine. Maybe that’s why he’d been so abrasive towards him. It was some weird pissing contest; a territorial thing.

“Don’t get me wrong.” Sebastian continued. “He _is_ gorgeous. When I first met him, I tried to sleep with him.”

Kurt knew he wasn’t saying these things to hurt him, but because they were true. But still, it stung a little to have his worst fears confirmed. He always had his suspicions that something more than friendship went on between the Dalton boys.

“He turned me down because I was drunk.” Sebastian said, seemingly reading his mind. “Always the gentleman, that Anderson.”

Kurt nodded, the ball in his throat dissipating slightly. “He is…he’s really nice. And funny. And he…listens to my problems.” God, it all sounded even more pathetic said out loud. He was waiting for Sebastian to laugh at him, or make some crude remark, make him feel even more ashamed.

But he didn’t laugh. He didn’t say anything. He just kept looking at him with those eyes, slightly out of focus.

“You must think I’m silly.” Kurt mused, not comfortable with the silence.

“You’re not silly.” Sebastian quickly countered, and Kurt swore he must’ve been having some weird trip, because none of this made sense.

The party was still going on inside, but Kurt knew what was happening between them, on that back porch, was a lot more eventful.

“You’ve just set the bar _really_ low.” He continued, producing a lighter and another impeccably rolled blunt from his pocket. Kurt didn’t even remember finishing the first one.

“Like you’re one to talk.” Kurt said bitingly. He felt exposed, like a raw nerve.

“Excuse me?”

“You have _no_ standards!”

“When it comes to sex, yeah.” Sebastian admitted. “But this is different. You’re like…starved. For kindness.”

Kurt looked down and picked at a nail, not knowing what to make of that revelation.

“Does Blaine know?” He settled on asking instead.

“Nope. He’s thick, that one.” Sebastian said, pausing to stick the unlit end of the blunt into Kurt’s mouth. “Inhale for me?”

Kurt breathed in as Sebastian held a lighter to the other end, exhaling only when he pulled it away.

“Please don’t tell him.” Kurt said, not realizing that was even a fear in his mind until the words left his mouth.

“Cross my heart.”

 “I’m serious.” Kurt said, hitting his arm.

“So am I!” Sebastian insisted, holding his arm where Kurt had made contact. “You pack a punch, princess.”

 “And stop calling me that.”

"Princess. Princess. Princess."

“You’re so fucking immature.” Kurt snapped.

Sebastian’s mouth dropped open, feigning shock. “Did you…did you just curse at me?”

Kurt tried not to make a habit of it, thought it uncouth, but Sebastian always knew which buttons to press. The look on his face was priceless. “Did I fucking stutter?”

Sebastian laughed, delighted. “Say it again.”

 “Fuck you!” Kurt said, also laughing at this point.

 Sebastian was practically gasping for air. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Kurt froze next to him, briefly, but then let his body give in to the high again. He’d never done that before, just thought about his mother without wanting to curl up in a ball and hide.

He felt so blissed out he didn’t even care what Sebastian called him anymore. He felt weightless, and everything was suddenly so funny. Even Sebastian. And his horse teeth. And his tongue that stuck out between them whenever he laughed.

Why was he supposed to hate him?

“Why am I supposed to hate you?” Kurt found himself asking out loud, before he could stop himself.

Sebastian stopped laughing then, the question catching him off guard. “I’m not following.” His breathing was still slightly uneven.

“That’s just…what we do, right? We hate each other?”

Sebastian grew quiet then, thinking while taking another long pull. “Everyone has their role, I guess.”

“I guess.” Kurt echoed, mouth parting and Sebastian allowing him another hit while wearing that tell-tale smirk.

“I will admit, you’re kind of everything I can’t stand.” Sebastian continued. “Not in a ‘I hate femmes’ kind of way, but now that I think about it…”

Sebastian was met with an unimpressed glare, which just caused him to laugh. “Look, I’m sure you’re _someone’s_ type.”

And this was more like the Sebastian that Kurt had come to know so well. The one that was capable of avoiding questions and insulting him all in one go. Except this one was…warmer? Yeah. That’s the word he’d go with.

“Am I his type?”

 Sebastian’s expression changed, then. His eyes grew steely. Kurt felt the distance between them grow. “Who gives a fuck?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Who gives a _fuck_ what his type is?”

Kurt fucked up. He said something wrong, but he didn’t understand what. He didn’t get why Sebastian was so angry and god, he had the urge to take another hit of that god awful pot. To go back to yelling fuck and everything being side-splittingly funny.

“I don’t-”

“It doesn’t matter, because he’s never gonna _see_ you! He can’t…he doesn’t know how to look beyond your whole sob story, bless his dumb heart.”

“Stop it.” Kurt mumbled, not liking where this was going.

 “You’re like…an investment. A project.” Sebastian continued mercilessly. “He’s grooming you. So he can show you off like some…some price winning pony.”

“Stop.” Kurt said, quieter this time. Sebastian’s eyes softened somewhat, but the grip he placed on Kurt’s arm was purposefully severe. As if to anchor him. Make him focus on his words.

“He wants to _fix_ you.” He continued quietly. “To _save_ you. And you don’t...you don’t want someone like that, Kurt.” Sebastian looked up then, eyes meeting Kurt’s.

Kurt was stunned into silence. He’d heard Sebastian say variations of this before, but all of that had been in some crude attempt to hurt him. This…this was different. This was almost like a warning.

 It had occurred to Kurt that someone had hurt Sebastian deeply. But seeing it up close, on display like this was different.

And Kurt wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. That was the thing about Sebastian. His eyes were so _old_. It was disconcerting, really, because everything else about him screamed playfulness and youth. But they were haunted, those eyes.

 _Still pretty, though_ , Kurt couldn’t help but think.

And, well, he guessed that was part of his charm.

Kurt wanted to dig deeper, get this story out of him. He didn’t know if they’d ever talk so candidly again. But he didn’t want to scare him off, either. It was fragile, this temporary moment they’d crafted together. An alternate universe where Kurt Hummel and Sebastian Smythe weren’t nipping at each other’s heels.

“Are you seriously giving me relationship advice?” Kurt asked instead, and that defused the tension. Sebastian relaxed his grip, resting his hand at his side.

“I have some sins to atone for, too, I guess.”

But Kurt knew that wasn’t it. He didn’t know what he was to Sebastian, but this was never about being good. Their relationship was nothing about atonement. Indulgence, maybe, giving way to baser instincts. The need to upstage, to humiliate.

In that way they were equals.

“I thought Blaine was your friend.”

“He is my friend.” Sebastian said quickly. “But it’s completely fucked, what he’s doing to you. It’s not right.”

And Kurt believed him. He didn’t have a particular reason to, really, but he never knew Sebastian to be a liar. He could be misleading, yes, but was very deliberate in the way he spoke to people. He knew how to get his way without being dishonest.

“I can’t believe I’ve been so dumb.” Kurt said after a moment, unable to stop his confession what he started. “I thought…maybe he was the _one_ , you know? Like in the movies.”

Sebastian grinned at that, and it made Kurt shrink in on himself. Screw Sebastian, and his uncanny ability to make people feel incredibly small.

He stopped once he saw Kurt’s expression. “Look, I’m…I’m not making fun of you. It’s just…how old are you, again?”

“We’re the same age.” Kurt reminded him, both sixteen going on twenty-five.

“Exactly! And yet…you’re in this weird rush to what? Be in a relationship? Settle down?” Sebastian nudged him right back. “There’s plenty of dick in the sea, Hummel.”

Kurt wrinkled his nose at that, which made Sebastian laugh again. Kurt wouldn’t begrudge him that, though.

“What about you?” Kurt asked, wanting to know what his deal was. Why he was always hung on some new flavor of the month. Why settling down was his worst nightmare. And Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

“As much as I love a good pity fuck, Blaine would kill me.”

Kurt felt his cheeks burn red. “That’s _not_ what I meant.”

“I could hear his voice now.” Sebastian continued, going on to mimic him. “ _Seeeb. Stop fucking my friends. Especially Kurt. He’s….fragile.”_

Kurt laughed—or more like honked—the accurate impression catching him off guard.

“But it could be…weirdly hot.” Sebastian said, pretending to seriously consider it. “Granted, I’ve only slept with two girls, but-”

“Fuck you!” Kurt laughed, pushing him.

 “Welcome back, Sailor.”

“I can’t stand you.” Kurt said, trying to put on his serious face.

“So I’ve heard.” Sebastian said, grinning goofily. Kurt hadn’t known he was capable of being goofy.

Kurt caught himself staring and cleared his throat, looking down. “So, uh, is that it? Did you find out what you needed to know?”

Sebastian tilted his head slightly, holding him under a scrutinizing gaze. Kurt got the feeling that whatever it was he was trying to understand, it would take more than one night.

“You know, Blaine told me you fix cars?” Sebastian said randomly. “And I…couldn’t get that out of my head. You in those…hideous overalls, covered in grease.”

“That’s weird.” Kurt deadpanned. “You’re weird.”

“Yeah, probably.” Sebastian agreed, undeterred. Kurt wished he could just...steal some of that effortless confidence. Lord knows he needed it. “Also high as shit.”

Kurt burst into another fit of giggles and Sebastian followed suit, even snorting and oh god, that had to be the cutest thing Kurt has ever heard, that snort.

“That was cute.” Kurt found himself saying before he could help himself.

“What?” Sebastian asked, still fighting his laughter.

“You snort. That is…that is _so_ cute.”

Sebastian lost the fight, laughing again. “Stop talking.” He said, putting the blunt back to his lips in an attempt to shush him.

Kurt blew out more smoke. “Let me hold it, at least.”

“Uh uh. I’m the expert, here.” Sebastian explained. “I have to….monitor your intake.”

“That sounds like bullshit.”

“Says the novice.” Sebastian said, but conceded. “It’s a little bullshit.”

Kurt grinned then, reaching out to take it even though Sebastian held it just out of his reach.

“Ugh. Hate you.” Kurt said. “And your freakishly long arms.”

“My arms are moderate, thanks.”

And they went on like that for a while, teasing each other and finishing the remaining weed—Sebastian letting Kurt partake whenever he so graciously felt like it—and instead of being strained it just felt….easy. Being around Sebastian was so easy that Kurt forgot everything else, forgot why he had retreated outside to the porch in the first place.

 

 

After a while he finally noticed his phone buzzing, and clumsily pulled it out of his pocket. It was Puck, who had sent him a string of texts wanting to know where he was. The last one was something completely incoherent, but what Kurt got out of it is that he had hitched a ride home and didn’t know where Kurt went but he hoped he was alive. Kurt typed out a quick ‘yea’ because that’s all he could be bothered with at the moment.

He turned back to Sebastian, who was staring out into the dark again. Kurt wondered what he was hoping to see.

“I think the party died down a bit.” Kurt said, realizing how quiet it was, now.

“Thank fucking God. Maybe I can actually get some shut eye.”

“Yeah, I need to head home myself.” Kurt said, but realized he was still coming down and probably shouldn’t be operating a vehicle. Sebastian followed his train of thought.

“You could sleep here tonight, if you want?” Sebastian offered, and Kurt raised an eyebrow. That was such an odd thing to say. Sebastian was so odd.

“I’m not gonna sleep in some stranger’s house.”

Sebastian laughed then, shaking his head. “Wanna know something wild?”

Kurt rolled his eyes, but humored him. “What?”

Sebastian got up then, opening the jammed door with a practiced ease and allowing it to swing open. “I live here, nimrod.”

Kurt couldn’t pick up his jaw off the floor of he tried.

“You-”

“Yup.”

“But Puck never said-”

“Who the hell is...oh, you mean Noah Puckerman?” Sebastian inquired. “So that’s who you came here with. Forgot that loser went to McKinley.”

“How in the _hell_ do you two know each other?”

“He cleans our pool. My little sister must’ve invited him.”

Kurt felt like smacking himself. He remembered their earlier conversation, when he had insulted Sebastian, insinuating that he couldn’t live in a place with such tasteful décor.

But that almost felt like a different day. A different person.

Sebastian waited for Kurt to walk inside and followed right after, locking the door.

The party was still going but it was at half capacity, probably bound to be over within the hour. Sebastian greeted a couple of people as he made it through the crowd, Kurt following in tow and trying to ignore the wolf whistling from people who clearly had the wrong idea.

“Sorry.” Sebastian said once they finally reached the quiet of upstairs. “Misleading you. Wasn’t nice of me.”

And if that wasn’t a testament to how far they’d come Kurt didn’t know what was. Since when was being nice a requirement between them?

Sebastian seemed to read his mind, because he quickly fixed his mistake. “To be fair, I was testing just how dumb you actually were.”

“Conclusion?”

“The limit does not exist.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “That was weak, Smythe.”

“Ugh. I know.”

Kurt watched as Sebastian place an ear to his door—“People sneak up here all the time, the bastards.”—and determined the coast was clear before swinging it open.

Seeing his room was…completely anticlimactic. He expected something grand, a statement that spoke of how well traveled Sebastian was. He expected a menagerie and weird knick knacks lying around and fancy colognes with names he couldn’t pronounce and carpets from India and--

Well, what he saw was completely ordinary. In fact, it was the most lackluster part of the house. There was a tiny French flag, and an impressive looking bookshelf. It was spacious, too. And almost clinically clean. But other than that…nothing. The normal room of a normal teenaged boy.

“Hid my sex swing because I knew I was having company over.” Sebastian explained when he saw Kurt’s reaction, which earned him a chuckle.

Sebastian then did the most unlike him thing of the night, gracelessly flopping belly first onto his bed.

“I am...so tired.” He mumbled, presumably to the sheets. And then moved over, patting the spot right next to him.

Kurt had figured he would be taking the floor but didn’t protest, climbing onto the bed so he was lying next to him.

He never thought he’d be in a bed with Sebastian, ever. But here they were, having some sort of sleepover.

Which is what it was. He felt like he was at a friend’s house. And for the first time he understood how someone like Blaine and someone like Sebastian could get along. He was…decent when he wanted to be. Nice, although he’d die if you pointed it out.

Sebastian took a break from laying face down, probably because he was running out of oxygen, and turned to face Kurt. “You should probably call your mom or something. So she doesn’t have a fit.”

“Dad.” Kurt corrected quickly, not quite meeting Sebastian’s eyes. There was still so much they didn’t know about each other. He supposed he’d tell him that story, one day.

One day. Like this night wasn’t some fluke that they’d both forget the following morning.

“Where are your…?” Kurt trailed off, not wanting to make a similar mistake.

“Mom’s in Paris. Dad’s at a conference in Virginia.”

Kurt wondered if he often had that big house to himself.

He sent a quick text to his Dad, lying about sleeping over Puck’s. Tomorrow was a weekend, so he didn’t bother setting his alarm.

He looked up to see Sebastian still looking at him, not even having the humility to look away once he was caught. His expression was so open; Kurt could see the wheels turning in that odd head of his. He saw him considering something, before shaking his head to himself.

“I’m gonna sleep now.” Sebastian warned, turning to face the other way again. “Please don’t try to like…kill me or something.”

Kurt huffed out a laugh, closing his eyes and quickly drifting off.

 

 

He slowly woke up the next morning to a hand gently shaking his shoulder. His eyes were slow to open and he felt groggy. His mouth dry and tasting of…yup, that was last night’s weed. The memories of their talk flooded back to him as his eyes fluttered open.

Sebastian was leaning over him, already standing up. He looked a little worn for wear, still donning the now wrinkled outfit from the night before.

“Anyone ever tell you you snore?” Sebastian asked. “Because you do. Loudly.”

“Morning to you too.” Kurt mumbled, grabbing the nearest pillow and putting it over his face to close the sunlight out. And not have to look at that face.

“I’m making coffee and kicking the remaining losers out of my house.” Sebastian informed him. “If you want to stay you have to help clean up.”

Kurt was going to object, but he stopped himself. He realized that was Sebastian’s twisted way of telling him he wanted to spend more time with him. And Kurt couldn’t find any reason to deny him of that.

“Do you make a habit of sharing a bed with the help?” Kurt quipped, some of his drunken boldness from last night carrying over.

Sebastian paused. Kurt held his breath without realizing it. Maybe he had crossed a line, the energy between them having died off with the sunrise.

Kurt removed the pillow from his view, made sure he was looking at him just in time to catch it. And, like clockwork, there it was. That twitch. Right at the left corner of his mouth.

“Only if they’re pretty.” Sebastian said a moment later.

Kurt figured he was one step closer to finding out what that gesture meant.


End file.
